NEW SIGHT

NEW SIGHT

NEW SIGHT June 10, 2020

if there is a grand plan for the movement happening worldwide for justice and equality of black people… I believe we have just entered into the new phase of strategic action.

Personally I feel a palpable shift in from quivering rage and paralyzing grief into ripples of anger and unnerving awareness. The emotion is transmuting into fuel and I am seeking the right avenue to direct it.

As relieved that I am to be somewhat functional again, I miss my rage. Rage yields clarity. But rage is not sustainable for my body and there are plenty of people who actively choose to remain ignorant and hateful.

I am being heard, and loved. My friends have rallied around me and are providing a buffer of solace. I live in a reality where a great contingency of the world has voiced caring about black lives. Its a complete reversal of the reality of my entire life.

I will continue to tell my story. Being heard by my own self is worth it. At the moment I am finding myself mealy-mouthed. One byproduct of speaking up and taking inventory is a depressing awareness of how much I have bought into the system. I recently announced I’m ready to fuck shit up and embrace all my glory… so everything not in alignment w that declaration is coming into focus.

I am deeply saddened by the frequency and ease of which I abandon myself. Get distracted by someone else’s agenda and lower my profile to let another shine. I don’t mean the healthy give and take of relationships, I mean the purposeful dimming of my light and shutting down of my power. Chronic low self esteem that elevates the ideals of people who don’t look like me.

I have been addicted to struggle, trauma, lack, with a deep undercurrent of belief that my role is to suffer but sing through it w a gospel hymn. And I expect the same from other black people. Whenever I have gained traction in the system, I have sabotaged it. I’ve accepted black people’s suffering as natural. I have made other people millions, built their businesses, taken care of their kids while neglecting making a solid plan for my own life.

I’m catching myself and stepping away from always playing a supporting role, part of an entourage. I’m not soothed by trinkets in exchange for my life-force energy. I’m not willing to shuck-n-jive.

Right now it’s tiring to exercise being fully self-possessed, to stay present, advocate for myself and black people, and not feeling defeated by the sheer amount of correction that needs to happen, internally and externally. I trust I will get stronger as I practice staying rooted in my experience. The idea of going back to sleep is not an option.

Grace.


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